Tally stood off to the side as the doctor pulled apart the broken cast on Cash’s leg. He handed the two halves of the plaster cast to the nurse and gently placed Cash’s foot on the floor.

“Any pain?” the doctor said as Cash gingerly rose from the chair.

“No.” Cash put weight on his damaged leg. “It feels fine. Looks a mess, though.”

The doctor smiled kindly. “All completely normal. I’d advise trying not to scratch if your skin becomes itchy. Better to gently wash with mild soap and water every few hours.”

Cash walked up and down the doctor’s office. “What about the muscle wastage?”

“Again, completely normal. Your muscles will be atrophied, but with gentle exercise and physio, they will completely recover without any lasting effects.”

Cash nodded. “When can I start exercising it?”

“You need to take it easy for a while. At the risk of sounding clichéd, you need to walk before you can run. We’ll need to see how you do over the next few days and then complete another X-ray, and then we can look at a longer-term strategy.”

Cash met Tally’s gaze. “Fancy a stroll around Paris?”

She grinned. “Sounds wonderful.”

He looked over at the doctor. “Okay?”

“Yes, but take it easy. No running, no climbing stairs.”

Cash took Tally’s hand. “Thanks, Doc.”

As they walked out of a private entrance to the hospital to avoid the press camped at the front, he took a deep breath. “Freedom.”

Tally laughed. “You’ve hardly been in prison, ace.”

“Feels like it,” he muttered.

They’d wandered around Paris for an hour or so when Tally noticed Cash beginning to drag his leg.

“You okay, ace?” she said, giving him a concerned look.

He grimaced. “Bit of discomfort. Stop fussing.”

She pointed to a bench beside the Seine. “Let’s sit for a while.”

He sighed heavily, and a flare of irritation crossed his face. “I said stop fussing.”

She touched his arm. “It’s going to take a while to get back to normal.”

He wrenched his shoulder upward. “For fuck’s sake, Natalia. I’ve been lying in that goddamn hospital bed for weeks. I said I’m okay. Now, leave it.”

The flashes of anger had been steadily growing over the last few days, a situation the doctors had warned her about, given the severity of his head injury. She thought she’d been prepared to deal with mood swings, but the surge of pain that spread through her chest every time he snapped at her said she was kidding herself. She fiddled with her handbag and stared at the ground, waiting for Cash to make the next move.

“Fine,” he finally bit out when the silence had stretched between them for several minutes. “I suppose a few minutes’ rest won’t hurt.”

Tally didn’t reply because she instinctively knew he wouldn’t want her to, but she took comfort in the small victory.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered as he flopped onto the bench. “I’m so fucking frustrated.”

“I know.” She crossed her ankle over her other knee and took off her shoe, digging her thumbs into the soles of her feet. “Wrong shoes for walking,” she said with a grin.

He held out his hand. “Give it here. I can still give a mean foot massage with one hand.”

The rare offer of intimacy made her pulse jump, and she placed her foot in his lap. As his thumb dug into her instep, she groaned.

“You are the foot-massage master.”

He smiled then, and hope swelled within her, but then his thumb stilled, and his razor-sharp gaze settled on something behind her.

“What?” she said, glancing over her shoulder.

“Wait here.” Her foot fell from his lap as he clambered to his feet and sprinted across the street.

“You’re not supposed to run,” she yelled as she rammed her foot back into her shoe.

She set off after him, catching up in a narrow alley where he’d cornered a guy who was clutching a camera with a long lens. Brilliant. A pap.

“Give me the fucking camera,” she heard Cash say as she approached. The guy responded in French but spoke too quickly for her to understand. Cash clearly did, though, because his face reddened. Before she could track his movements, Cash had hold of the camera. He must have caught a glimpse of her hovering at the end of the alleyway because his head spun around, his eyes flashing with utter fury.

“I fucking told you to stay put!” He spun away as the photographer made a lunge for his camera. Unfortunately for the pap, Cash was taller and faster, and the pap retreated empty-handed. Cash removed the memory card, snapped it in two, and dropped the pieces to the ground. He shoved the camera into the photographer’s chest and leaned in close.

“If I catch you taking pictures of my girlfriend again, I’ll break this camera over your fucking head.” He marched to the end of the alleyway and clutched Tally’s elbow. “When will you learn to do as you’re told?”

“Don’t take your bad mood out on me,” she replied, yanking her arm out of his grasp. “It’s not the first time we’ve been photographed, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

“I don’t want pictures of intimate moments between us in the paper.”

“Then you shouldn’t have been massaging my foot in the middle of Paris.”

He planted his hands on his hips, his chest heaving. He closed his eyes as he took several slow breaths. When he opened them, they were glistening with tears, and Tally’s heart cracked.

“Oh, ace,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. “What can I do? What do you need?”

He buried his face in her neck. “I want to go home.”